In Vino Veritas
by StrawberryBlues
Summary: "Why the hell did you try to do a cartwheel while drunk on a canal?" "I have a well-exercised sense of adventure." A series of non-chronological one-shots based on Laxus and Cana's alcohol-centric adventures.
1. Splash

Splash

"I'm not in over my head!"

She pouts adorably as she walks—sways, he corrects himself wryly—towards their apartment. She's flushed with alcohol, words slurred enough that she's stumbled over her own vowels several times.

"You owe Mira 120,000 jewels, Cana," he tells her dryly. "I'd say that's a little over your head. You haven't gone on a job in weeks!"

She crosses her arms and huffs at him. "I've been _busy."_

He raises an eyebrow. "You are so fucking gone right now, it is not even funny."

"I'm not even _drunk_!"

"I can't believe we're even having this conversation. I'm just impressed you're still upright."

"I'm _not!"_

"Sure, and I'm Mirajane. Pay up."

She kicks at him, misses, and overcorrects, spilling forward over her feet into his chest. He catches and steadies her, leaning forward to touch his forehead to hers. "Easy there, Thunder."

She snuggles into his coat. "Ooh, this is nice and warm."

"You're going to have to come out at some point, you know."

"No way, asshole_. _You're like a walking fluffy heater."

"I'll tell Mira to charge interest."

"… You're the fucking _worst."_

They walk in silence for several more minutes, then Cana perks up. "Can we walk on the canal?"

He turns to look at her in horror. "_Now?"_

She beams. "Yeah, come on!" Grabbing his hand, she yanks him with her over to the canal. She hops on top of the raised rim and grins at him, swaying slightly. "Look how cool this is."

"Incredible," he deadpans.

She scowls. "Seriously! I bet I can do a cartwheel on it."

He raises an eyebrow. "You're going to fall and kill yourself."

"Wow, you seriously have no faith in me. Jerk." She crosses her arms and glares at him. "I'm going to do it."

He feels a flash of guilt at goading her. "Wait, Cana, I—"

She lines herself up to do a cartwheel. She manages to get one hand down on the canal rim before she slips and goes over the edge. Laxus feels his heart plummet down with her. "_Cana!"_

Before he thinks, he's stripped off his coat and shoes and flung himself over the side of the canal after her. The water's fucking _cold, _he realizes on impact. It feels as if every pore of his body has turned to ice.

Reaching out, he snags Cana's feather purse and tugs her to him, cradling her to his chest. She blinks up at him happily, hair soaking wet, cheeks flushed with excitement. "Laxus, it's so fucking freezing!"

"Why the hell are you excited by that, woman?"  
"This is awesome. Duh."

"Why the hell did you try to do a fucking _cartwheel _while _drunk _on a _canal?"_

"I have a well-exercised sense of adventure?"

"Fucking hell—"

A throat clearing behind them interrupts the squabble. Laxus turns, pulling Cana with him, to see a boat full of stunned fishermen staring back at them. The leader appears frozen, mouth open as if about to say something. He blinks and makes a choking noise before managing to force words out. "Are—you both all right?"

Cana _sparkles_ at the man. "I love this canal!"

Laxus scowls. "You're psychotic, woman."

"Fuck off, Dreyar."

The fisherman blinks. "Uh—"

Laxus sighs, deciding to give up on his dignity. "We'll just be going now. Sorry for the interruption. Carry on." Hoisting Cana up over his shoulder, he heaves himself up out of the water, starting the tedious climb back up to the street. "You just _had _to do a _cartwheel _on the fucking _canal."_

Cana wiggles happily on his back. "Wasn't it fun though?"

"I hate you so much."


	2. Bicker

Bicker

_Sweet Mavis, they're actually going to do it._

Elbow supporting her weight against the bar, one eyebrow arched in disbelief, Cana Alberona watches the two massive men smirk at each other. They both clutch a shot in each hand, eagerly eying the row of deceptively dainty glasses lined up on the table in front of them. A rowdy crowd rumbles around them, shouting crude encouragement. Mira slips gracefully through the mass, winding her way around the table, collecting bets and handfuls of jewels with a terrifyingly benign smile.

"_Laxus!" _Gildarts roars, beaming wickedly at the blonde dragonslayer opposite him. "You ready to have your ass handed to you?"

"You wish, old man," Laxus snarls back, grinning widely, "You're going to drop before you can even taste the tequila."

"Bring it, brat. I've been drinking since before you were born."

"That explains the beer belly, bastard!"

"I may be fat, but you're ugly, and I can lose weight!"

"I don't doubt it— you're definitely a loser!"

She sighs, shaking her head. _Idiots. _Eying the bottle on the bar top expertly, she calculates that they'll both drop within fifteen shots. Lightning, Crash magic, and extreme bullheadedness can only take a man so far against a bottle of blue agave tequila.

"On your mark," Master Makarov carols happily from his seat on the bar, watching Fairy Tail's strongest mage and his grandson face off over a rickety table. "Get set…"

Gildarts raises his eyebrows challengingly at the blonde. "Last chance to back out, Dreyar. Scared yet?"

"Please," Laxus scoffs, leaning forward over the table. "I'd be more scared of Wendy in a kitten costume."

"_Go!"_

The crowd around them explodes into chaos as Gildarts and Laxus gulp down their first two shots, one after the other. Gildarts' eyes bug out and he chokes briefly. "Dear Mavis, what the hell is this?"

Laxus doesn't look much better, resting a fist against his broad chest. "It feels like I tried to eat Natsu alive." He grabs another shot and pounds it down, pulling a disgusted face afterwards.

Gildarts' face flushes red as he quickly tips back a glass, pitching forward to brace himself against the table. "Whoever made this deserves to die."

The men both cough desperately, grabbing at the shots still lined up. Gildarts puffs himself up like a rooster, grinning madly at Laxus. "Give up yet?"

The smirk Laxus shoots back is nothing less than evil_. _"_Never_."

They both lean back over the table for another round.

Twelve shots later finds a very inebriated, very giggly Gildarts and a similarly incoherent Laxus sprawled on the floor under the table, resting their heads in a very amused Cana's lap.

"Is that your face?" Gildarts snorts, flailing his hands in an attempt to smack Laxus on the head. "Or did your neck just throw up?"

"Couldn't help it," Laxus slurs happily, pressing his face further into Cana's thigh. "One look at you and it made me vomit." He pauses in drunken contemplation. "It looks like your face caught on fire, and someone tried to put it out with a fork."

Gildarts tries to send Laxus an offended scowl, but ends up collapsing into giggles as he attempts to craft a reply. "Well, you look like you went bobbing for piranhas in a bucket of shit."

"You look like an ass."

"You _are _an ass."

"You're stupid."

"Well, you're ugly!"

Cana drops her hands on both men's heads to end the argument before it goes any quicker. Laxus nuzzles her knee like a cat. "Cana, pet me more!"

She almost chokes with laughter. "_What?"_

The blonde pouts, offering up a pair of surprisingly adorable puppy eyes. "Pleeeeeease?"

"No, Cana-chan, don't do it!" Gildarts mumbles hazily, putting his hands over his face in abject horror. "My little girl, corrupted…"

Laxus elbows the Crash mage sulkily. "I don't corrupt her, _she _corrupts me."

Gildarts, scowling, jostles Laxus right back. "My baby girl is perfect and sweet and innocent, _baka."_

Laxus freezes and turns gleeful eyes to Cana, breaking into a sadistic smirk. It amuses her to no end that, even while sloshed, the Lightning dragonslayer still prioritizes pissing off her father over his own safety. "Can I tell him? Please? I can hold this over him _forever—"_

"No, no— no telling me anything! La la la la," Gildarts howls, clapping his hands over his ears and scrunching his eyes shut.

"Gildarts, there's something I have to tell you!" Laxus yells.

"_I'm not listening!"_

Cana grins, tilting her head back against the wall and closing her eyes. Her men really are idiots. But as she watches her father poke Laxus' forehead while Laxus ineffectively slaps at the redhead's hands, she can't help but admit that the two really are stupidly adorable. She tells them so.

"'M not adorable," Laxus sniffs. "'M a badass!"

"Yeah, Cana, you can't just call us adorable!" Gildarts complains. He beckons her closer, whispering loudly, "We have repti— repet—"

"_Reputations _to uphold," Laxus finishes with the beaming pride of the heavily inebriated. "We're _badasses_!"

"You're certainly something," Cana chuckles, smoothing the hair off of her dragonslayer's forehead. He purrs and rubs his face into her hand.

Gildarts whines unhappily. "Cana, stop touching him!" The two men dissolve again into incoherent bickering, complete with attempts at hair-pulling and a few unfocused blasts of Crash magic. Sparks begin to flicker over the tabletop, quickly extinguished by Makarov's quick reaction with a mug of water.

Cana sits back against the wall contentedly, feeling her own buzz glow through her body. The rest of the guild whirlwinds around them, but they seem to fill up their own little corner, she and her family.

_Bickering and all, _she muses happily, _hell, maybe _because _of the bickering…_

_ I wouldn't want it any other way. _


	3. Catch

"Get back! I'll jump!"

Her eyes gleam violet, wide and panicked like a wild animal's. She gasps for breath, well-formed bosom heaving against the blanket she's clutching. She inches her feet closer to the edge of the guild wall.

Laxus pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation, turning to the white-haired barmaid. "_Who _was it who told her we ran out of alcohol, again?"

Mirajane holds up her hands defensively. "I gave her a _warning! _I didn't know she'd take it so seriously!"

"I can't believe you people are making me do this." Scowling, the lightning dragon slayer cups his hands to his mouth and tilts his head back. "Cana! Get down from the fucking roof!"  
"There's nothing left to live for!" she shrieks back. The wind whips through her billowing hair. "All my joy is gone!"

For the hundredth time, Laxus wonders how he ever thought his lover was sane. "You're being an idiot."

"Go to hell!"

He grits his teeth. "Don't try to jump off the roof because we ran out of booze, moron!"_ I can't believe they're making me put up with this crap._

"There's no other way out for me, Laxus. I love you. I'm sorry." She bends her knees in preparation to jump. "Goodbye."

Laxus drops his head back and groans in irritation. He'd catch her easily, if she jumped while _rational_; however, sober Cana does not bode well for said rationality. He doesn't want his lover to break her leg because she tried to jump off the _side _of the guild instead of the front. He scowls and gets ready to transform into lightning as she curls her toes over the edge of the roof.

_"Cana!" _Lucy sprints out onto the roof with a bottle of amber liquid. "I found a bottle of whiskey! Come here!" She waves the flask in the air as she doubles over, hands on her knees, panting for air from her run.

"Whiskey!" Cana spins around with a joyful cry, reaching happily for the bottle. Cradling it to her chest, she bounces back into the guild. Lucy, still bracing her hands on her knees, waves exhaustedly at the crowd gathered below. _Show's over, folks. _With a grumble, it begins to disperse.

Laxus waits at the base of the guild, scowling. When Cana emerges from the building, he raises an eyebrow as she comes to stand in front of him. She carefully offers the bottle to him. "Drink?"

He can feel a vein in his forehead throbbing in irritation. "Cana."

She shifts her feet nervously. "It was an emergency!"

He can't tell if the expression on her face makes him want to shake her or burst into laughter."So what have we learned from this experience?"

She ducks her head sheepishly. "Um… if we run out of booze, it's not appropriate to try to commit suicide?"

"Or?"

"Or kidnap beer brewers."

"Or?"

"Or drink rubbing alcohol."

"Or?"

"Laxus, I didn't do anything else!"

"Until we run out of booze again."

"…"

"Dammit, woman, get back here! You can't— Cana! Don't get back on the roof!"

"You'll never take me alive!"

"… I'm going to child-lock the booze for the rest of your life when you come down."


	4. Tease

"Che. They're both blind."

Cana Alberona scoffs at the sight of the small, blue-haired bookworm talking quietly with the rough, hulking iron dragonslayer. Levy rocks forward onto her toes as she speaks animatedly, light as a songbird about to take flight. Gajeel, on the other hand, seems to sink into himself, pulling his sprawling form in as much as he can to appear unthreatening to the little Solid Script mage. _This is ridiculous._

"Why blind?" Mira murmurs from the other side of the bar, hands deftly wiping out a wine glass. She smiles sedately, watching the couple chat. "Look at them. They only have eyes for each other."

Cana grins. "No shit. But they have no idea. Morons, the two of them."

Levy mutters something to the iron dragonslayer that makes him choke and turn bright red. Flustered, he jumps to his feet and storms out of the room huffily. Levy remains sitting where he left her, a look of utter bemusement spread across her face. The confusion slowly turns to irritation, and, hopping from her stool, she speeds after him.

"I wonder when she'll realize he loves her," Mira says softly.

"Love turns people into idiots," Cana tells her sagely, taking a sip from her drink. The sudden burn sears her throat and makes her choke. She aims a gimlet glare at the barmaid. "Shit, Mira, what did you put in this, Etherion?"

"It's blue agave tequila, calm down." Mira fixes the brunette with a skeptical stare. "You don't believe that."

Cana eyes the glass suspiciously. "I can totally believe that. This shit kills."

Mira rolls her eyes. "No, _baka_. You don't believe that love turns people into idiots."

"Sure I do."

"Where's the joy in that?" Mira leans forward over the bar, blue eyes questioning.

Cana heaves up her bottle onto the bar with a heavy _clunk. _"I got all the joy I need right here!"

"You're going to die of liver failure."

"Ooh, baby, say it again."

"I'll cut you off."  
"Don't you dare!"

Their bickering cuts off abruptly when the guild doors slam open, revealing Laxus Dreyar's intimidating figure, framed by the noon sunlight. He stalks into the hushed room, prowling over to the bar and slumping onto one of the stools. He's just returned from a mission, Cana realizes, judging by the ragged pack slung over his shoulder. He raises his head wearily, eying the barmaid. "Mira, a beer." The white-haired woman slings a glass down the length of the bar towards him; he catches it with a groan and lifts it to his lips.

"What happened to you, Dreyar?" Cana asks loudly. She knows the inquiry will piss him off, and the flash of irritation in his grey eyes doesn't disappoint. "You look like shit."

"No more than you on a regular basis," he snarks back. "I had to hold back an entire thunderstorm on my mission, actually."

_And he comes out swinging! _"At least I can fake pretty," she grins. "You're stuck with it." She pauses. "You can hold off a storm?"

He chuckles quietly, then looks vaguely shocked at his own humor. "It was a gamble." He takes a swig, and Cana finds her gaze drawn to the smooth lines of his throat as he tips his head back.

"Glad to see you non-fried, Sparky," she tosses off instead. "I was worried there for a second."

He glances up at her with a mischievous look, sensual mouth quirking up into a small grin. It's enough to shock her into silence. "You don't have to worry about me, Alberona." Getting up, he pads over to her stool to whisper in her ear before leaving: "I'll always come back to you, you know. Too many good insults left for me to give up now."

He walks away from her in a swirl of brown coat, striding over to sit at the Raijinshuu's table. Cana watches him go with wide, irritated eyes. "Cocky idiot."

Mirajane gazes with amusement at the card mage. "Idiot, huh?"

"Yeah, I've told you—" Cana freezes, mid-word. "No. _No_, Mira. Don't even go getting those ideas. There is _nothing—"_

"—Between you and Laxus, I know," the barmaid finishes sweetly, beaming. "I've heard it."

Cana narrows her eyes. "You're _wrong."_

"If you say so." Whistling, Mira goes back to work polishing glasses. "It just seems to me that maybe Levy and Gajeel aren't the only blind ones around here."

Cana glares at the white-haired woman, sipping moodily from her drink. "I'm not blind." The liquid settles hot and fiery in her stomach. _I'm not. _Almost against her will, her gaze drifts back over to fix on the obnoxious lightning mage. He's laughing with his team, and the sound sends something warm through her chest.

She sighs. _I may not be blind, but I sure as hell am an idiot._

"You _like _him," Mira whispers loudly from across the bar.

Cana scowls at the barmaid. "I will pour this tequila on you."

"Do it. I'll get Laxus to put locks on the liquor again."

Cana sulks. "I'd get him to undo it."

"Sure you would.

"With my feminine charms."

"Uh-huh."

"And my effortless wit."

"Yep."

"…I'm not blind."

"Whatever you say."


	5. Mix

He doesn't realize how strange his life has become until he walks up to the bar and sees Cana leaning contentedly against the bar, elegantly stirring a salt-rimmed cocktail with a small silver spoon. His eyes bug out as he takes in her new outfit. Sleek ivory satin clings elegantly to her body, hugging the slenderness of her waist and flowing down over the length of her legs. Loops of fine silver strands rest delicately over the front of her dress and wrap around her wrists. Her petite feet arch in unreasonably high silver heels.

She looks incredibly hot— and classy as _fuck._

He has to clear his throat twice and tug at his collar before he can form intelligent language. "Damn, Alberona, you clean up nice."

She gives him a once-over, eyebrow raised mockingly. "You could stand to try harder."

"Fuck off," he tells her lightheartedly. "What ushers in this—very appealing— change in outfit?"

Cana wraps slender fingers around the stem of her glass and raises it towards him in a pseudo-toast. "There's nothing wrong with a little elegance once in a while, Dreyar. Something a _plebian _like you wouldn't understand."

He blinks. "Um—"

"I learned how to mix drinks yesterday." Seeing his uncomprehending stare, she elaborates heatedly. "I wanted to respect the nature of the alcohol!"

"Let me get this straight. You refuse to put on a shirt that covers more than your breasts, even if I specifically ask you to, but you'll change your _entire _wardrobe— just so that the _alcohol doesn't feel left out?"_

"It's my friend!"

"You're psychotic."

"At least I look classy as fuck. You look like something died on your coat."

"You look like something died on your face."

"—Just for that, I'm not mixing you any drinks."

"Like I even want your stupid drinks." They sit in fuming silence for a few moments, then: "What are you making?"

She's pulled two large cocktail glasses towards her, rubbing the rims with lemon rind. She extends her arms and daintily dips the now-wet rims into a flat dish filled with sugar. When she lifts the glasses up and sets them back down on the bar, the rims glitter with a sweet dusting. "It's called a Sidecar. I learned the recipe in Crocus."

He watches, mesmerized, as she fills a cocktail shaker with ice, adding lemon juice, cognac, and Cointreau. After shaking the container, she carefully strains it into the sugar-rimmed glasses. He whistles. "Neat."

She glares at him. "I'm not _done _yet, moron." Neatly paring the lemon into delicate slivers, she then garnishes each glass with a slice of lemon. The drinks sit on the counter, gleaming, captivating with innocuous amber liquid and cocked lemon slices. Cana leans back, adjusts the lemon slices' angles, and stirs each drink once, before declaring them complete.

Laxus picks one up and examines it. It looks classy. He sips, lets the taste seep into his tongue. Damn. It even _tastes _classy. "This is good, Alberona."

Cana hums in satisfaction as she sips it. "Oh, the taste of extravagance is so sweet." She lets out a long, slow sigh and tips her head back in bliss.

"Mmm." Laxus nods enthusiastically. "Makes me want to go put on my pearls."

Cana narrows her eyes at him. "I bet they bring out your eyes."

He smirks cockily. "Babe, they bring out my everything."

"Including your stupidity?"

"No, I borrow that from you."

She kicks him, and he growls. They bristle at each other for a moment. Then: "What's another one?"

"Another what?"

"Another one of these fancy drink things. I'm thirsty."

"Fancy drink— these are works of _art_, Dreyar! You have to _savor _the aesthetic." She huffs. "You can't just chug them because 'I'm thirsty!'"

"I am thirsty."

"Fuck off."

"Please?"

"God, you're pathetic. Fine."

She dumps their cocktails behind the bar and rifles around through Mirajane's cupboards, muttering about vintages and proofs. Emerging with two glasses, she slams them down on the counter. "I'm going to teach you how to mix a mint julep."

"Sounds weak."

"Shut up, Sparky." She slides a plate in front of him. "First we put the sugar on the plate— don't spill it everywhere, idiot. Good. Now moisten the rim of the glass with water— yeah, like that."

He rumbles unhappily. "I think my hands are too big."

"That's what she said. Suck it up, _baka. _Okay, next you're going to dip the rim of the glass into the sugar."

Her hands follow his soothingly as she guides the glass into the sugar. It comes out frosted with clumpy white crystals.

"Perfect. Now, we're going to put the mint leaves—no, no, those are basil! You want the mint— yes, those. Put the mint and syrup into the glass. Now we need to crush them up. Here, use this."

"Is this a weapon?"

"It's a cooking utensil. We call it a pestle."

"Bet I could kill someone with this."

"You could kill someone with just your ugly mug, Dreyar."

"…"

"Ow! Don't hit me with the pestle, idiot!"

"Don't call me ugly, moron!"

"… Fill it to the top with ice. Yes. Good. Now the fun part!"

"Bourbon?"

"Bourbon!"

He grins, watching the liquid stream into the glass until it swirls around the crushed ice. The movement thrills something deep inside of him, something that purrs to life, hot inside his abdomen.

Cana pats his head blithely. "I bet you totally got off on that."

"What? No!"

"Artistic license, my friend. Get off on whatever you want about this. This is _art."_

"You're unstable."

"I'm an _artiste._ Stir it with this."

"This is definitely a weapon."

She smacks him. "It's a _swizzle stick. _Calm the fuck down."

"Che, whatever, woman. Am I done yet?"

"Put this in."

"Leaves."

"Leaves make shit classy. Do it."

He leans back, examines the way the spearmint sprig rests on the rim of the glass, then adjusts it with one finger. _There. _"Done."

She fixes him with clear violet eyes. "Drink."

Refusing to back down from the challenge, he lifts the drink to his lips, letting it slip slowly over his tongue. His mouth tingles with the new sensations; the mint hums cool against the back of his throat, while the alcohol singes his stomach when he swallows. "Interesting."

"Che, you fucking love it, admit it."

"You get way too involved in this."

"You like classy drinks!"

"No, I don't!"

"_Laxus likes being classy!"_

"Goddammit, Cana, I don't like being classy! I'm tough, I'm strong, I'm—"

She arches one slender eyebrow.

"—Fine. I like classy drinks. Go ahead and mock me."

Cana grins hugely. "Why would I mock you? I like them too." Slipping away from the bar, she presses a minty kiss to the corner of his mouth. "And what can I say? I like a little class in a man."

He stares at her as she sashays away, ivory satin draped temptingly across the smooth span of her shoulders. Those heels do _wonders _for her legs, he muses to himself, still tasting the mint on his tongue. It makes his lips tingle, and he smiles.

_Maybe, once in a while, I could learn to love a little bit of class._


	6. Flirt

It's a testament to how drunk they both are that they devise a drinking game around pick-up lines. The rules are simple: for every line they've never heard before, drink; for every line that would've worked, drink; for every line that makes them lose composure, drink.

"Baby, if you were words on a page, you'd be what they called _fine print_," Cana slurs with a dramatic leer, wiggling her eyebrows at Laxus. The blonde quickly attempts to freeze his facial expression, but when Cana flutters her eyelashes at him maniacally, he breaks into helpless laughter. Grinning, she shoves a shot over to him and he downs it obediently.

He smirks at her. "Apart from being sexy, what do you do for a living?"

"Drink. Bet on Natsu's love life. Occasionally blow shit up." She takes a shot. "Got me again."

"Woman, you're so easy to get into bed."

"Shut up, Dreyar," she grins good-naturedly. "Do you have a sunburn, or are you always this hot?"

"I'm always this hot."

"Moron."

"Hey Cana, did you sit in a pile of sugar? Because you have a pretty sweet ass."

She rolls her eyes. "Did the sun come out or did you just smile at me?"

"I'm _so_ glad I've never heard that one before." Shuddering at the burn, he sidles over to her and slips an arm around her shoulder. "I was wondering if you had an extra heart… because you seem to have stolen mine."

Cana tosses back another shot without even blinking. "Yep, totally would have slept with you for that one."

"Che, no shit— I'm irresistible."

"Not with these lines, you're not."

"You just said you would've slept with me!"

"Obviously I'm having a terrible lapse in judgment." She thinks for a moment. "I think I've been having that lapse in judgment since we started this game."

"You know what would make this more sensible? More alcohol."

Cana cheers and clinks her empty glass with his. "Let me at it!"

They pause to tip back another round of shots, before resuming their game. Wincing at the taste of tequila, Cana bats her eyes excitedly at Laxus. "Your legs must be tired— you've been running through my mind all night."

"Excuse me," Laxus counters, "but I think I dropped something when you walked in: my jaw!"

"That's the worst line I have _ever _heard." She sticks out her tongue in disgust as she slams her now-empty glass down on the bartop.

"It works."

"That's appalling."

"Hey, not _my _issue."

"You're an idiot." Cana spins woozily in her chair. "I don't think I can feel my fingertips."

"Will you look for them in my pants?"

"I lied. _That _was the worst line I've ever heard."

"Che, fine. Give me the bottle." He swallows, pulling a horrified face. "This tastes like etherion."

Cana winks. "That's the point!"

Laxus blearily holds his glass up at eye level. "I bet this could kill a dragon."

"Probably." Cana hazily tips her head back onto the bar and giggles. "Hey, Laxus! You look cold— want to use me as a blanket?"

"…"

"Really? That would have worked?"

"… It was cute and shit. Whatever."

Cana cracks up. "You are such a _sweetheart."_

"I am not!"

"Yeah, yeah, save it, Sparky. I know what makes you tick now." A pause. "Are you _blushing?"_

"Shut it, Alberona."

"Can't. I already dropped my jaw."

Against his will, Laxus crumples into laughter at her comment. It's so random and dryly funny and classic _Cana _that it makes him want to drunkenly giggle. He resists the urge.

"Hey, dragonslayer, are you lost?" Cana murmurs in his ear, slinging an arm around his waist. "Because heaven is a long way from here."

His lips have long been numb to the alcohol's burn, but they tingle as he presses his mouth to the shell of her ear. "Is it hot in here, or is it just you?"

She turns her head to whisper seductively into the curve of his neck:  
"It's just me."

"Clever." He laughs again, the sound bubbling out from some little-used cranny. It sounds odd to his ears.

Cana shrugs with a grin. "What can I say? I'm a truth-teller."

Her eyes look like deep, dark amethyst pools as she smirks at him, and he finds himself gazing quietly at her across the bar. The alcohol has flushed her cheeks soft crimson, and he gazes at her, unexpectedly enthralled. "If beauty were time," he whispers, letting his voice roughen into its deep rumble, "you'd be eternity."

She cracks up. "That's it, I'm yours for the night." Still giggling, she tips back another shot. "Oh, that line is wonderful. I'm going to use it."

"Copyrighted," he growls softly in her ear, teasing her with his breath against her neck. "You're only allowed to use that one on me."

"Possessive, aren't we?"

He draws back and meets her violet gaze with his. "Only about what I consider mine."

She freezes. "I'm not yours."

"You could be." The words slip out, unbidden, and hang in the air between them.

He sees the wariness flit through her eyes. "You're drunk. You don't know what I'm saying."

"I'm not drunk. I'm just intoxicated by you." He flashes her a bright, genuine grin. "And I know _exactly _what I'm saying."

"You won't remember this tomorrow, moron." She's smiling now, a small, private curve of her lips that makes him want to pull her to him and kiss her.

He leans in, resting his straight arms on both sides of her body. They're both pressed up against the bar. "I'll know that you must have been so beautiful that you made me forget all my pick-up lines."

She throws her head back and laughs jubilantly, baring the supple lines of her throat. His mouth goes dry as he lets his gaze rake over the smooth planes of her collarbones, yanking his eyes back up to her face with effort. She glances at him coyly, running a finger down his chest. "What time do you have to be back in heaven?"

He winks. "I'm totally free. When I saw you, I knew that heaven had been brought to me."

"… I should be taking a drink right now."

"So should I."

"I have drinks back in my apartment. Care to continue this there?"

"You know, I'd like to invite you over, but I'm afraid you're so hot that you'll skyrocket my air-conditioning bill."

"Dear Mavis, you are terrifyingly good at this."

"I can't wait to show you what _else _I'm good at."

"Hey, Cupid called. He says to tell you that he needs my heart back."

"No way, finders keepers!"


	7. Draw

There's something pounding on the wall next to her head and she groans, turning over and burying her face into the pillow to shut it out. She swears quietly as the motion confirms that the pounding is in fact _in _her head and cannot be shut out. _Yep. Hangover._

She's almost impressed with herself— she hasn't had a hangover this bad in _years_. It feels like her brain turned into tapioca. She wonders what the _fuck _she must have drunk to put herself in this state. She moans again, feeling her head pound harder in punishment.

"What _happened _last night…?" a masculine voice rumbles beside her, and she nearly screams in shock, flipping over to come face to face with a _very _rumpled Laxus Dreyar. He looks just as hungover as she does, eyes squinted against the light spilling through the curtains, hand raised to massage his temples. When he sees her, his eyes stretch wide. "_Cana?"_

"I—you—" She tries desperately to remember what they'd done the night before. Quickly assessing her body, she realizes she's only wearing her bikini top and lace panties. _Where the_ hell _are my pants? _"Did we—?"

"No!" he almost yells, shielding his eyes with one hand and wincing at his volume. "Your clothes are still on. I would've—" and she swears he blushes the tiniest bit. "—If we'd done anything, they'd have been on the floor."

"So confident," she mutters dryly, sitting up and pressing her palms flat to her aching forehead. She believes his claim, no matter how irritatingly framed— she's sore in all the wrong places for them to have done anything the night before.

Even through his confusion, he manages to shoot her a disgustingly cocky smirk. "I figure I've earned that confidence."

"Jerk."

"Please, like you're any better."

"If having standards makes me better…" She snickers at his disgruntled look, then frowns. "If we didn't… you know…"

Laxus snorts. "Fuck?" At her scowl, he grins. "Bang? Bump uglies? Have sex? Fornicate? Do the no pants dance?"

_Ugh, men. _"Fucking hell, Laxus, you're like a ten-year-old!"

He takes that moment to throw the covers off of him and sit up, running a hand suggestively down a suddenly _very _exposed, toned, tattooed chest. "Does _this _look like a ten-year-old to you?"

Cana offers him two middle fingers. "Does _this _look like I'm in the mood for your bullshit right now?" Her voice rises and they both wince, covering their ears.

He's the first to speak. "So… what happened last night?"

She rests her forehead on her arms. "I remember… shots. Lots of shots. And horrible trap music." Glancing up at him through heavy dark curls, she frowns. "Why would there have been horrible trap music?"

"We must have left the guild, gone into town. Maybe found another bar." He thinks for a moment. "Why would we have done that?"

"I was trying to avoid Gildarts?" she suggests blankly.

"Why am I here, then?" he returns.

"Oh, right." Then: "_You_ were trying to avoid Gildarts?"

"Fuck if I know," he groans, burying his head in his hands. "I can't remember a goddamn thing. Except for the shots."

"So many fucking shots." Her stomach rolls at the memory. "Ugh. No drinking tonight. Only… tomato juice."

He makes a face. "Tomato juice?"

"My baby betrayed me last night. We're going on a break." Cana pushes herself out of bed, scanning the room. She ignores the rush of blood to her head and the answering headache. "Do you see my pants?"

Laxus looks around, slowly standing with a hand on his forehead. "My shirt, too."

They hunt in silence for a minute until: "How the fuck do you lose a shirt?"

He explodes. "Woman, you lost your goddamn _pants_. Don't you even _start_."

"This wouldn't have happened if you'd stopped challenging me to shots—"

"—_Challenging _you to—? Cana, we fucking sat _under a table_ and played strip poker. It's part of the rules," he growls angrily, then inhales in a moment of realization. "Wait. I remember—"

She whips her head up, locking wide violet eyes with his. "Strip poker."

"The guild," he breathes.

She grins. "Let's go."

* * *

"Cana, your _pants—!"_

The brunette ignores Lucy's outburst as she and Laxus slam into the guild, tousled and hungover. Laxus looks surly, scratching the back of his head with one hand as he surveys the guild for his shirt. Cana stalks over to her normal drinking table, slamming a hand down on the surface, startling Macao and Wakaba out of their card game. "Oye, either of you two seen my pants?"

"Your— your pants—?" Macao's eyes promptly dip down below her hips and almost pop out of their sockets. Wakaba tries to restrain a gushing nosebleed, crumpling to the table in a heap.

She scowls, unimpressed. "Pants. Seen them?"

Macao shakes his head and gurgles weakly. Wakaba seconds that with a whimper.

She shakes her head and stalks away from them, not caring that the view of her lace-clad backside brings on a fresh onslaught of blood. "Idiots."

Laxus strides up to her, still _extremely_ shirtless. "Do you remember where we were playing?"

She opens her mouth, but she's cut off as Bickslow swings into the conversation, tongue lolling out of his mouth. "You and Boss were getting rather frisky on the floor under the center tables, if I remember correctly."

Cana raises a dangerous eyebrow. "_Frisky?"_

Lisanna cuts in delicately, tugging the Seith mage away from the hungover duo. "Ah… by that he means to say… you were engaging in some behavior that members of the guild could call… provocative…"

"You had your tongue in his mouth," Gajeel provides bluntly, walking swiftly by.

Cana chokes. "I did _what?"_

Levy winces next to the iron mage, timidly entering the conversation. "Um… if it helps, he really seemed to be enjoying it?"

"I believe that," Laxus mutters quietly, seemingly not meaning the others to hear him. When he realizes they did, his eyes widen and his cheekbones flush dark red. "I mean—"

Mirajane appears out of nowhere into the middle of the conversation, eyes sparkling with hearts as she beams beatifically at the card mage and the irritable dragonslayer. "Think of the lovely babies they would make!_"_

Cana recoils. "_What?"_

The white-haired barmaid steamrolls over her, hands clasped over her heart. "Blonde-haired, violet-eyed babies and gray-eyed brunette babies and—"

Laxus stares at her, panic playing over his features. Cana looks like she's going to be sick. Mira claps her hands together in joy. "It's going to have to be a spring wedding— it'll be lovely— the trees will be in bloom and we can hold it in the cathedral and we're going to have _babies _in the guild—!"

"Laxus," Natsu interrupts out of the blue, wandering up with Happy, "what's that on your back?"

The lightning mage frowns. "There's nothing on my back, _baka."_

"Yes there is," Natsu persists, scowling. "It's a bandage. Did you get into a fight without me after you and Cana left?"

Cana reaches out and grabs the blonde, pulling him around so that his back faces her. A big white bandage spans across his right shoulder, opposite his spiral tattoo. She runs her hand across it. "Did we fight anyone? Do you remember?"

He winces. "No, but that stings."

Levy gasps. "Cana, you have one too!"

"_What_?" The brunette twists to try and see her back. _Oh, fucking hell._

Laxus stops her contortions with a large hand placed between her shoulder blades. "Here. Yours is lower."

He presses his fingers to the small of her back. It sends a jolt of pain through her body. "Ow!" She swats his hand away. "If we got in a fight, it was definitely your fault, Sparky, you sadist."

Laxus opens his mouth to counter her accusation when Gajeel bursts into laughter, surprising them. Cana plants her hands on her hips, addressing the pierced dragonslayer with flashing violet eyes. "What's up with you, metal head?"

"You didn't get into a fight, _baka,_" Gajeel manages to choke out through his chuckles."Those are new tattoo bandages. Looks like you guys got some ink done in a moment of inspiration."

Cana's mouth drops open. "Oh _hell _no. You're wrong. I'm proving you wrong right now." _Please let it be from a fight._ She reaches for Laxus' back at the same time he ducks around her and aims for hers. She twists, avoiding his arm, trying to trip him to the floor. He growls and grabs her calves, toppling her to the ground. She struggles. "Get off me, Pikachu!"

"You're so fucking impossible!" he tells her, trying to tug off her bandage from behind her back. It's awkward, to say the least.

"Yeah, yeah, you love it," she snarks back, kicking out at him. He's on top of her as they wrestle, pinning her with his greater weight, and she feels heat prickle over her skin as she presses herself against his muscular chest. He grabs her arms and slams them to the tiles beside her head. She glares at him and tries to buck him off. _Stupid dragon. Why does he have to be so much bigger? That's cheating._

"_What in the hell is going on here?"_

Makarov has arrived on the scene, and from the look on his face it's already just _one of those days. _The guild master blinks, taking in the view in front of him: his irate grandson pins a fuming Cana to the floor; Mira's having a field day to the side, raving about babies as Freed sends Laxus an apologetic glance; Levy and Lucy shoot each other worried looks as if wondering how to separate the fighting pair; Natsu and Gajeel engage in a fistfight; Bickslow and Lisanna crack up, watching the spectacle with great amusement.

"_They're having babies!" _the barmaid exclaims in ecstasy.

Makarov blinks. "Um—"

"They're getting it on," Bickslow supplies between giggles.

"_Fuck you, Bickslow!" _Cana screams from under Laxus.

"They're fighting without me!" Natsu wails, punching Gajeel in the face. "Laxus, fight me!"

"I'm busy, moron!" Laxus snarls, avoiding a kick aimed at his nether region and slamming Cana back to the floor with a powerful flex of his shoulders.

Makarov's mouth hangs open. "What—?"

"They got drunk and got tattoos," Levy offers tiredly. "I think. It's actually been really unclear."

"Cana doesn't have pants on!" Wakaba yells from across the room.

"_Fuck you, Wakaba!"_

Makarov groans. "I hate my job." Extending his arms with magic, he snatches up Laxus and Cana, pinning them separately to the ground. "Someone figure out what this shit is about. Please."

Bickslow and Lisanna jump forward, each taking a place by Laxus and Cana. They grin maniacally at each other. "On three?"

Laxus hisses curse words at his teammate. "Bickslow, I swear to Mavis—"

"One."

Cana's threatening Lisanna. "Don't touch me, Strauss, or I'll tell Mira all about that incident in the wine closet I walked in on—"

"Two."

Mirajane stops twirling in her delighted circle, fixing her sister with an icy stare. Dark waves roll off of her, turning the entire room shadowy and cold. "Lisanna, what's this wine closet incident?"

Lisanna giggles nervously. "Nothing, Mira! Just focus on the babies!"

"Oh, the babies…" Mira's off again in a rainbow daze. Everyone sighs in relief.

"Three!"

Bickslow and Lisanna simultaneously yank the bandages off of Laxus' and Cana's backs, baring the aftermath of their drunken escapades.

Cana swears viciously, scowling. "Well?"

Bickslow almost chokes, he's laughing so hard, and Lisanna can barely speak as they back away from the incensed mages. The Seith mage waves a hand at the pair, bending over to rest his hands on his knees. "You got— this is the best fucking thing I've ever seen in my _life_—"

"_Bickslow, I will fucking end you!" _The card mage rushes over to the nearest mirror, twisting to see her back. Her mouth falls open as she takes in the jagged, golden bolts perfectly outlining the curve of her lower back over her panties.

"Fucking _hell_," Laxus audibly groans, examining his own back in the mirror. He glares at the perfect arc of cards spread over his shoulder blade. "I'm never drinking again."

"Same," Cana growls, angrily eying the bottles lining the bar. "We're not on a break anymore; we are _never_ getting back together."

Lucy whispers to Levy, "Is it healthy to be that attached to alcohol?"

The Solid Script mage shrugs. "It landed her a new tattoo, so it's hard to say."

"It actually looks good," Lucy murmurs.

Levy raises an eyebrow at the blonde pointedly. "It's _Cana."_

"Cana could make a trash bag look good," the blonde concedes.

Bickslow, overhearing, grins at Laxus. "Hey Boss, Blondie's hitting on your girl!"

"_She's not my girl!"_

_ "I'm not his girl!"_

Gajeel snickers. "Denial."

"Eat shit, pencil lead." Cana gives him the middle finger

At this moment, Romeo comes running in. "Cana! We found your pants on top of Kardia Cathedral!"

Laxus chokes. Cana slumps against the wall, closing her eyes and sliding down to rest bonelessly on the floor. "I hate this entire guild."

Laxus drops down to sit next to her. "I feel that."

"You probably _put_ my pants on top of Kardia Cathedral, _baka._"

"Probably true."

They sit in silence for a moment. Then: "Cana?"

"What, Sparky?"

Laxus' head is bowed so she can't see his eyes, but she swears she sees a flush of red along his cheeks. "The tattoo looks good on you."

She pauses, mouth open, caught between a sarcastic response and a flustered giggle. She settles on an unusually soft smile. "Thanks, Dreyar."

"This is when you tell me mine looks good too, idiot."

She grins. "I'll tell you that when you get my pants down from Kardia Cathedral."

"Damn. So close."

"My mama didn't raise no fool."

After a moment, Laxus raises an arm and she leans in, resting under the curve of his arm against his side. When he speaks again, there's a smile in his voice. "But you _do _think it looks good on me?"

She ducks her head against his side, laughing softly. "Don't push your luck, Dreyar."

He accepts that with a small smirk. The guild moves on around them, drinking, talking, fighting, ignoring the shirtless lightning dragonslayer and the bare-legged card mage sprawled against the wall. Natsu and Gray start another brawl, quickly broken up by a furious Erza Scarlet. Mira flirts quietly with Freed at the bar. Lucy and Levy pore over a new copy of Lucy's novel as Gajeel chews on a fork. Wakaba and Macao hit on Laki and Kinana. Makarov sits on the bar and drinks a beer, enjoying the brief respite.

"Cana?"

She turns towards him questioningly. "Yeah?"

Laxus grins. "Strip poker tonight?"

She breaks into a wicked smirk. "You're on."


End file.
